Haunted Eyes, Haunted Pasts
by LifeIsGame
Summary: Percy Jackson just got out of a war. Harry Potter is just about to enter one. What could the two have in common, except for perhaps their parents?
1. Chapter 1

**So, I've been wanting to write one of these Percy and Harry are related stories for a while, and have finally decided to try one. I hope to add some new twists to this type of story, but still keep it as canon as possible. By the way, I'm American, and while I'll try to make the HP characters sound British, they'll probably sound a little different. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.**

Chapter 1

The trio approached the old house under the cover of darkness. It was a sweltering summer evening, and the weeds sticking out of the sidewalk were fried brown. Music, like it always had, blared from the neighbor's and a wail of sirens was heard in the distance. Approaching the porch to the foreboding building, Sirius tried one last time to convince the other two wizards that he should stay somewhere else.

He cleared his throat and prepared another argument, "Do you really think Buckbeak, who has nowhere else to go, would be satisfied living cooped up here? Because I can think-"

Dumbledore, if there was such a way, gently cut him off. "We better be headed inside before anyone notices something off. And," he added, answering Sirius's question. "I'm sure Buckbeak would much rather be cooped up over being killed on the run." At that, Dumbledore swept up the stairs and into the house.

Sirius shook his head, scoffing. The headmaster hadn't even tried to disguise the double meaning behind that statement. Of course, Sirius knew the dangers of running, never settling down, trying to survive as a fugitive, with both sides wanting him dead. But eating rats would be better than staying in his old home, memories he'd tried to forget long ago invading his mind. Memories of his parents (better off dead), his brother, of _James_. James sneaking into the house whenever Sirius got grounded, James "accidently" kicking Kreacher down the stairs after the elf had insulted Sirius, James pranking his mother- _No, _Sirius reminded himself. _Don't let your thoughts go to that place again. Don't remember. It hurts too much. _Next to him, his old friend smiled sadly at him, as if he knew exactly what Sirius was thinking.

"Come on, let's head in," Remus said, looking pensive. Together, the two friends entered Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

The place had gotten worse. Sirius hadn't known that to be possible. It looked like something out of one of those Muggle horror movies he had once seen. It would have been unnervingly quiet as well, except for Dumbledore's humming coming from the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind them, Sirius felt reality crash back onto him. He really was back. _Trapped_.

"Home sweet home," he muttered.

Remus sighed, it seemed to Sirius that sighing was their only similarity now. "It's really not that bad."

Sirius knew that statement was not meant to start a fight, especially coming from Remus, but it still got his blood boiling. Perhaps slightly more sharply than he had intended, he snapped, "Like you would know what bad is."

Sirius recognized the look on Remus's face. It was his you shouldn't have done that look, used when preparing for a fight. Sadly, he had been on the receiving end of one of those looks much too often lately. "Bad?" he hissed. "You try not even being able to _see _your best friends' son, who has suffered from far too much even before he went to Hogwarts, because you're a werewolf."

If Remus had went for any other angle, Sirius might have conceded. But Remus, so great at reading his enemies, had hit Sirius at his weak point. Not even that hard, but it was hitting the point that counted. Sirius, regardless of how he sometimes acted, was quite intelligent, and grasped the hidden message, it saying _you failed. _Squaring his shoulders, he responded with, "Are you really blaming me for how Harry was raised?"

Sirius could tell that Remus recognized that he could have gone after the werewolf point but didn't. Sirius remembered Remus's nightmares and scars from the first couple months at Hogwarts, and would never have preyed on his biggest insecurity. "You know that letters were still sent to this old place? When Dumbledore came to check this out, I think he put all the letters in your room."

Sirius knew that this translated to a silent thank you and apology. He did feel a twinge of regret for starting yet another spat, however short it was, with his friend. So, sending his own silent apology, he said," I'll have to check that out. May show something interesting."

Their somewhat peace treaty seemed to hold. Remus, forcing a smile, said," I think I'm going to see if I can put the kettle on for tea. Want some?"

"No Moony, gonna go check out the letters. Might have gotten some fan mail or something." What Sirius really wanted was for things to be less awkward between him and Remus. It felt like they were getting into more arguments every day, tension rising with each one, and one day, the pressure would get to be too much and they would explode. Blow up the barely fixed friendship of theirs that had once been so close. It was hard to reconnect with him being on the run for the past two years. He wouldn't be having that problem anymore, though, Sirius thought wryly. At least he could still appreciate the humor in the shittiest of situations. Or at least irony.

Opening the creaky (shocker, that one) door to his room, Sirius saw that it had barely changed at all. Same old Gryffindor posters, bedsheets, Muggle posters. He was proud to see that no one had the ability to remove what he stuck up. The only differences were that the room was dustier and the small, tidy stack of letters sitting on the bed.

He crossed the room and picked up the letters, settling on the bed. He'd forgotten how comfortable it was. Most of the letters, he discovered as he idly flicked through them, were junk. An old advertisement about Madame Pudifoot's made him cringe, but that was the most emotional response given for any of the mail. That is, until Sirius reached for one of the last ones.

He had picked it up, expecting it to be nothing of interest, until he saw the handwriting on the envelope. Starting, he leaped off the bed and dropped the letter, as if it was on fire. It could have been too, and Sirius would not have noticed it, so focused on the front of the envelope.

Because he _knew _that handwriting. He had seen it a million times, on at first papers the good old Marauders had "borrowed," then on notes he had passed in class that received scathing replies, and lastly on letters they had owled to each other over the years. That was _Lily Potter's _handwriting, and it was most likely one of the last letters she had ever sent. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of not reading it, as it would most likely just remind him of good memories that hurt to recollect. But he was Sirius Black, and oftentimes his curiosity, which resurfaced for the first time in ages, caused him to need to know.

Sirius opened the letter. More like teared through it, cursing envelopes, like how they were so bloody hard to work… Groaning to himself, he grabbed the wand and cleanly opened it. Sirius reminded himself to take it slow, this was the closest thing he'd ever get to hearing Lily's voice again. While James always had been closer to Sirius than a brother could be, Lily had gradually become like a sister to him, and he missed her just as much as James. He decided to skim over the words first, just to take in the handwriting again.

As Sirius skimmed over the letter, he realized just how much this house really was going to affect him. It was more than just being stuck in a place that he had sworn to never return to, it was that every second there reminded him of his past. And being reminded of the past reminded him of the people, ones that became the family he always wanted, who he lost. James, Lily, Alice, Frank, Benjy, Marlene, even Peter. Sirius didn't mourn the Peter Pettigrew who had betrayed the Potters. He mourned the Peter who had been a Marauder, a brother, a guy who, when drunk, would give the most scarily accurate impressions of teachers. Sirius got another reminder of a lost loved one, when he spotted the name that made him backtrack and study that part of the letter.

_I have news. It's about Sam, _the letter read. Sirius sat there, mind racing to come up with reasons why Lily would write about him.

Because unknown to most everyone, the Potters had experienced tragedy much sooner than the typical tale told about them. And also blowing away another common held belief about them, Harry was never an only child.

After Hogwarts, a newly graduated Lily and James discovered that they would be having a baby. Drawing away from most of the wizarding society, they had originally bought a small cottage in the country, elated over the news. And nine months later, known only to the Marauders and the muggles working at the hospital, a baby boy named Sam was born. Everyone else, after the birth, had apparated back to the house, but Lily and James, stubborn as they were, insisted on walking back.

Later, James had told him the whole story of what happened on their way back, instead of their haunted explanation of, "We lost him." When Lily and James had headed to the cottage, carrying Sam with them, Voldemort had come to recruit them. Apparently, he didn't like being told no, and in retaliation, attacked them. In the chaos of fighting, Death Eaters had taken Sam from Lily's arms and had killed him. It was that night that drew them into the fight against Voldemort. All of them had been devastated after the attack, each feeling like they could have done _something _to save Sam, but they put themselves together again and became closer than ever. James and Lily chose to leave all of the bad memories behind, moving to Godrics Hollow and becoming two of the Order's best fighters. Sirius continued to read the letter.

_James and I, out of sheer boredom, decided to try a spell we discovered in the Charms book Remus got us. It was a locater spell to find any people with both James and my blood, meaning our children. We assumed only Harry would be located, which he was as expected. But we also saw that there would be another child of ours in America. New York City, to be exact. We were shocked. But Sirius, if this is true, it means that Sam must be alive! We'll try the spell again, to make sure we didn't perform it wrong or some other fluke. I'm telling you this news hoping that you can help find Sam if we're right in our thinking, since both James and I can't leave the house. Please be safe as you know…_

Sirius stopped reading and exhaled, completely shocked. Heart racing, he checked the date the letter was sent. It was the day before they died. Sirius recognized what that meant. James and Lily hadn't had the time to find out if the spell was correct or not. But if it was, it meant Harry had a brother. It meant that _Sam was alive_. They had to find out.

Sirius yelled. "Uh, Remus, Dumbledore? You might want to come up here. I found something you'll want to see!"

**This was my first time writing something semi-angsty, so please tell me what you guys think! Next chapter you'll be finding out a more detailed version of the night the Potters lost Sam, and see the search for him begin. And if it wasn't clear, for the sake of this story, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson will be taking place at the same time. Thanks for reading! (: **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all of the feedback! You guys are awesome! I know I said that this chapter would contain both the flashback and the present, but I've had zero time to write these past weeks, and really wanted to get an update out. So this chapter is just finding out what happened the night of Sam's "death". I'm working hard on the chapter where they start to search for Sam, and that one should be coming out over the weekend. Warning: there will be curses in this chapter.**

**My disclaimer applies to all chapters. **

_17 years ago…_

Poseidon strolled the streets, an almost imperceptible worried wrinkle between his eyes. The sea god wasn't even sure why he was on the streets of an old, backcountry English town, only that something in his gut told him he had to be there. That something was going to happen, and that he needed to be there when it did. And Poseidon, over the years, had learned that his instincts were something that would never lead him astray.

So when the feeling had started tugging at him, he had excused himself from spending time with Sally, and flashed away to England. That he had to cut even more time from his already too little time he had to spend with her irked him, she was like a lighthouse compared to everyone else's dull glows. And he, like a moth to a flame, had been drawn in. Sally was vivacious and could be as stubborn as he was, and had seen far too much pain for her years. She was a breath of fresh air compared to Amphitrite. Who he did love, really, it was just that after a few millennia, things got, well, _boring_.

Trying to disperse his nearing lovesick thoughts (what Aphrodite would think if she were there), he concentrated on what he was doing in this rundown town. There didn't seem to be much, the typical bar, market, homes, and, a blip in the smooth landscape, a mansion looming out in the distance. Unconsciously, Poseidon had been nearing closer and closer towards the way to the mansion. It seemed dark, foreboding, a place that would get his senses on high alert. He just knew that this mansion had something to do with the feeling he had gotten.

It was night, and besides a few workers heading home or to get drinks, he was alone. Poseidon was passing the doorway of the bar, warm light spilling out of it, when a voice stopped him. "You're not from 'ere. Where yeh headed? I can give directions, if yeh like."

Peering forward he saw an older man stand up from the bench near the door. Poseidon had seen him earlier, and passed him off as no threat. He still didn't seem to be one, just a polite local. Forcing a casual look onto his face, he said, "Might as well. What's the fastest way to get to the edge of the town? I'm trying to reach the property out there." The sea god gestured to the mansion. Privately, Poseidon thought it a waste of time. It wasn't hard to walk forward to the end of the road.

The man's amiable look slid off his face, replaced with fear. "Don't go up there. Strange happenin's around the place. Strange happenin's." He said this in a near whisper, panic lacing his voice.

Bingo. He had found the area where the mysterious event his gut told him to be there for would most likely take place. It all felt very vague, but he couldn't do anything about that. Hoping to get more information, Poseidon asked, "What strange things happen?"

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be getting anymore out of the local. With more force, the man said," Don't go up there. DON'T. Trust me. Bad things happen!"

The man was getting more and more agitated. He decided to drop it, getting the man angry wouldn't help anything. Holding his hands up in surrender, he said, "Okay, okay. I won't go."

The man breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, sir. For heedin' my advice. Have a good night." As he walked away, Poseidon heard the man mutter to himself," _Strange _happenin's." It was a rather abrupt conversation, with huge mood swings coming from the man. He could have just been drunk, but the sea god was positive there was something more to it.

Bad things happened to people who went up to the property. The instincts screaming at him to be ready, that he was going to need to help. The terrified look in the man's eyes that can't be faked. Something was going to happen up on the estate. And Poseidon could already tell that _that something _was not going to be good.

Ducking into a side alley, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then flashed away to the land outside the manor. His nerves prickled, and he was closing his eyes, reaching out, searching for a source of power, of myth, of something that would call him to this town. For a few minutes, he just stood out in the grass, undisturbed. And then his eyes flashed opened and he was moving quickly, preparing himself. Because a magical presence had suddenly invaded the area, accompanied by a child's cry.

The presence had power. It wasn't just a mortal. It had to be part of his world. And that meant it would be his job to deal with. He once again flashed, although not assuming his true form (he wanted to know what this presence was and he couldn't find that out with it dead), this time to where he sensed the source of the power.

Appearing in a shadowy clearing surrounded by trees, Poseidon quickly took in the scene. There were two cloaked figures, and making himself apparent with a loud wail, a baby boy. The figures were advancing on the babe, who was laying on the ground. "Shut the thing up already!" the first snapped, his voice revealing her to be a woman.

"You think I haven't already tried that? _Idiot_. Maybe a little pain will teach the brat to keep his trap closed." And lifting an arm, the second figure, also a man, yelled, "Crucio!" The light shot out, heading toward the child, wisps of magic shaped like waves coming from the boy, futilely trying to stop the impending beam. The baby let out a bloodcurdling, unearthly scream as, Poseidon realized, the spell hit him.

Poseidon made the connections in a time that would shock even Athena. Those figures were wizards. So was the baby, a pretty powerful one if his magic was already defending him. And the couple were using their powers _to hurt the child_. With a roar of fury, he stepped out from the shadows he was hidden in, and before the wizards could even react, he waved his hand, simultaneously throwing them back and killing them. The spell broke on the baby. Perhaps it was his own childhood (or lack of one), but Poseidon could not stand those low enough to harm innocent babies. Although some might question that and say that he had killed both innocents and children, but long ago, he had turned over a new leaf, and he liked to believe he was now one of the most down to earth gods.

He turned around, planning on checking the baby. The young child stared up at him, fear plain to see in his eyes. Poseidon forced himself to chill as he noticed he was literally glowing with rage, and crouched down, smiling at the boy. Gently scooping him into his arms, he tried to remember how to hold a mortal baby. All he could recall was that they were very fragile.

But nothing could have told him about how it felt to be holding such a small thing, knowing that this tiny thing was depending on him. How it felt when the boy reached up a curious hand and touched his beard. It brought back buried memories of fatherhood. A warm feeling flooded into his chest. Poseidon smiled, eyes fixated on the kid. "Hi there," he whispered. Idly, he wondered what he was supposed to do with him. Assuming those bastards he had killed were the parents, this child had no one to raise him. And even if the couple wasn't, there was no way in Hades he would be returning the boy to parents who would give their son up to monsters.

"How… adorable." Poseidon had been so distracted by the child, he completely missed the woman arriving at the clearing.

"Hecate." Poseidon tried to be polite, but for their sake, what could she possibly be there to complain for? "What are you doing here?"

Airily, the goddess replied. "Tactful as always. But if you don't have time for pleasantries, let me cut to the chase." She smiled a cold smile, looking almost predatory. "You entered _my _domain." He really wanted to blow off her head at the moment. Or at least punch it.

Sighing heavily, he asked, "So now all of Britain belongs to you?" Poseidon really didn't have time for this.

She laughed arrogantly. "No. But when you intervened with wizards, those are my people. Mine. And we all know the rule. No entering others domains." Damn it. If they were normal scum, it wouldn't have mattered, but if they were _magic _scum, obviously it was a huge deal.

He could be arrogant as well, though. "If they are yours, then you should thank me. I did you a favor, getting rid of them."

This was becoming a diplomatic game, filled with thinly veiled meanings under fake niceties. "Maybe. But that was for _me _to decide. And that baby," she pointed to the child, silent like he understood that this was important. "Was supposed to die. Give him here, so I can fix my world."

Damn her. Not only would she let a defenseless kid die, but she is demanding that after his life was saved, to hand him over to be killed. And if he didn't hand the boy over, who knew what trouble she would stir up against him. Luckily, a loophole, a dangerous one, but a loophole nonetheless came to his mind. "No." He spoke strongly, surely, causing her to raise her eyebrow.

"No….?" she asked, looking ready to kill. So was he.

"No." Poseidon confirmed. "I can't because he will become my son." He shrugged apologetically, a triumphant smirk on his face. Hecate's eyes were narrowed to slits, and the only thing colder than them was her voice.

"Hmm, been a long time since you tried that." He still could picture the disastrous ceremony. "Great thing I'm here then. You do need the goddess of magic to perform a magic ritual. Let's hope it works this time."

Obviously, Hecate thought that by calling his bluff, he would back down. She was wrong. Poseidon considered his options. It was either hand the baby over to die, or perform a ceremony that would most likely kill him. Poseidon knew he had to take the chance. "Good. Ready to start?"

Exhaling sharply and giving a fake smile, she nodded. "I was created ready. I just need a moment to prepare my powers." As she did so, he looked worriedly down at the boy, who looked back with now trusting eyes. "Hang in there," he murmured. Poseidon tried to reassure himself that this would work. The baby was remarkably strong already, and it was true that he made Poseidon care for him already. But he couldn't shake the feeling of dread, that this would fail just like it had before.

"What's his name?" Hecate interrupted his thoughts once more. At his clueless look, she groaned and explained. "I need _your _child's name to perform the ceremony. Or it won't go correctly. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" She was asking to be castrated. But it was a good question. What would his name be?

Looking at his soon-to-be child, he saw, surprisingly, a flash of Sally in his features. And Poseidon remembered how when they once talked about children, she told him she would name a boy after the one hero who got a happy ending. And the name fit this baby. Poseidon would name him to honor Sally. "Perseus. His name is Perseus."

Hecate simply nodded. It appeared that her mocking was done for now. If there was anything the goddess took seriously, it would be her magic. Raising her hand in front of her, she summoned a glowing fire. "We will begin." She took Perseus from his arms, and placed him in the leaping flames.

Poseidon would have been terrified for Perseus, had he not known that the fire was completely harmless during the ritual. Hecate began chanting, weaving her magic. "Μπορείτε , Περσέας , τοποθετούνται στην πάντα φλόγα της Δύσης."

"Μπορείτε να γίνει ένας αληθινός γιος του Ποσειδώνα , τη θάλασσα στο αίμα σας ." With those words, she removed an ancient clay cup, shining gold, and covered in carvings of the Olympians. She sliced open first Perseus's hand, letting a drop of blood fall into the cup. The cut healed instantly. Then she turned to Poseidon. He knew that this was the time to think also of Perseus's would-be mother, to fully make him their son. He thought of Amphitrite, but as Hecate cut into his palm and the blood fell, for a split-second his mind shifted. Although Poseidon didn't notice this, too worried about the outcome that was fast approaching, wishing he could pray to some greater force to keep Perseus alive.

Hecate turned back to the flame, and dumped the cup's contents onto Perseus's head. Finishing the spell, she chanted, "Γυρίστε σε στάχτες , και την αναγέννηση ισχυρότερη από ποτέ . Φως και σκοτάδι , παράδεισος και κόλαση , συνδυάζουν και να αποδεχθεί !" Lights swirled around, forming huge columns and dropping, surrounding the three and wrapping them in magic.

Then there was that heart-stopping moment when everything stopped. It was like the universe was holding its breath, just waiting for the verdict. This was the make or break time, when everything hung in the balance. But nothing was happening. The fire died, flickering out. As Poseidon's hope weaned, a blasting white light pulsed, blinding both deities.

When Poseidon's vision returned, he heard a familiar cry. It couldn't be possible… But there was Hecate, looking bitter and a child laying on the forest ground. Poseidon felt a rush of relief and joy and giddiness pass through him. He didn't realize Perseus meant so much to him, Poseidon thought when he noticed the absolute happiness that consumed him when holding his son. _His son._ He had never believed in love at first sight, but he had experienced it with every child he had, and was feeling it again. Not one thing could ruin this perfect second. Perseus had done what no other had, this tiny child had survived.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. Hecate cackled, a literal out-of-the-sixties-witch laugh. "What?" Poseidon demanded, fear coursing through him once more. Could something have gone wrong? Although, it sounded like Hecate to do that just to freak him out, he reasoned. He couldn't let his panic show. "You've lost. You didn't get your petty way. Perseus is my son, and you can't do a thing about it." He said this proudly, ready to bring his son home, putting any doubts out of his head.

"Oh, I think I still won. He is _your _son, but not your darling wife's." As Poseidon's face paled, she added gloatingly. "Good luck with the prophecy in sixteen years." She disappeared, her victory obvious.

Poseidon stood there, thunderstruck. He glanced down at Perseus, and saw that he, completely exhausted, had fallen asleep. Hecate was right. He may have won the battle, but she won the war. Because he had thought of Sally Jackson at the crucial time, of how she would have loved Perseus so much. He failed. Not only did he not manage to properly save Perseus, he bought him a hero's fate and had brought Sally, free high-spirited Sally, a responsibility that should have been his, that would most likely end up killing her. And added to that, considering that Perseus even survived that long, he had brought a possible death sentence to all of Olympus. All he wanted to do was protect this wonderful baby boy, and he couldn't even manage to do that now. Poseidon walked away, heart heavier than he had ever thought it could be.

{/***\\}

Poseidon arrived at Montauk beach, mentally preparing himself to let Perseus go. To make a queen in her own right hate him. He had taken the long way to the beach, spending every possible second he could with his son, the one he was supposed to have forever with. He had prepared a speech, but the second he saw Sally on the porch swing outside her cabin, it slipped through his mind.

"Poseidon!" she called, running up to him. "I've missed y- Is that a baby?" Sally asked, looking happily shocked. He nodded miserably, not able to even fake a smile.

She looked worriedly at him, all compassion. At her unspoken question, he gestured that they should go for a walk. "I have something to tell you." And as they strolled down the waterline, Poseidon told her the story, the words pouring desperately out of him.

He watched her face as he spoke, as it smiled and gasped and looked at the end, more than anything, he saw that it looked strong. As he finished speaking, she said something so Sally that he had to smile. "His nickname will be Percy, you know." When looking at this beautiful woman and child, he knew the only thing he could do was enjoy his last seconds of them together as a family.

But when he tried to speak, his attempt at cheer flew out the window, pushed out by his grief and guilt. "I'm sorry," he gasped out, choked by tears. "I-I forced this onto you, and it will be hard, and you and Percy don't deserve this, and you're too good for me, and-"

Sally cut him off with a kiss to the lips. "You did a good thing. Don't argue because you. Did. A. Good. Thing. You saved an innocent child when everyone else was content to watch. And now it's my turn to do a good thing."

This woman continued to amaze him every time he saw her. "At least let me help. Please, if you won't come with me, can I… make sure you have a good home, or money?" Sally deserved the world on a gold plate, and he wanted to give it to her. To say thanks, to say sorry, to show that he cared for her. But he knew her answer, she was as stubborn as him.

"You know that if I don't live my own life, I won't be happy. Just promise me one thing, okay?" Poseidon expected it to be something sappy, like remember me or help Percy. He should have known better. This was Sally Jackson they were talking about here. "Don't interfere."

"What?" He couldn't do that. He _needed _to protect them.

"You heard me," she said breathlessly, her own words starting to sound distorted with tears. "Don't interfere. You did a selfless, brave thing today, so now I stand here, doing the same. I'm going to have to make tough choices to keep Percy safe, and you won't like them. Just like you had to make an impossible decision today, I'm making one. I know this is hard, giving each other up, but the second we see you after this, they'll come for Percy. And I can't take that chance."

He couldn't let this happen. But he had to, this was the woman he cared about immensely, begging him to do one thing for her. "I promise. And I understand. But I believe that someday, we will see each other again."

She nodded, tears running down her face. He knew she wasn't the only one. He leaned down towards Percy. "Perseus, be strong. Things won't be easy. Just remember, you are my son." Turning towards Sally, they had one last kiss. It was hungry, yet chaste; intense, yet soft. It was a goodbye kiss. "I'll never forget you," he whispered, his tears streaming into her hair as they hugged one last time. He didn't tell her he loved her, he said that too many times without meaning to use it now, at this parting moment.

"Good," she murmured back. They didn't say 'I love you'. They didn't need to.

And as Poseidon turned towards the ocean, leaving Sally and Percy on the beach, he, through his tears and pain, couldn't help thinking that this was the best mistake he had made. And as he waved goodbye for the last time, he knew that things would be alright.

**So, that was Chapter 2. I felt that it was kind of hard to capture all of this emotion that changed throughout the chapter, and hope I did a decent job of it. Poseidon and Sally are Percy's parents, but so are Lily and James. I hope that Poseidon wasn't OOC, and that it all made sense. Thanks for reading! **

**If anyone's interested in the translations for the ritual here it is, one line at a time. I got this from Google translate, so it's probably not 100% correct, and there are no rituals where gods or goddesses make mortals their children (or not that I know of), so I made that completely up. But that's artistic license, I guess, being able to slaughter mythology. The lines are: **

**You, Perseus, are placed in the forever burning flame of the West. **

**You become a true son of Poseidon, sea in your blood.**

**Turn to ashes, and rebirth stronger than ever. **

**Light and dark, heaven and hell, combine and accept!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for the reviews! They made my day! Sorry that this update is much later than originally planned, I have no excuse. **

**Clearing things up here. One reviewer said that James and Lily were horrible parents in this story, and I'd just like to say: they're not. The only thing implying that they might be is Poseidon thinking that parents would have to be monsters to harm a baby, and he was ****assuming**** that. He didn't know that Percy was forcibly taken from Lily and James. They tried to save Percy and couldn't, and tried hard to find him once there was a chance he was alive. They unfortunately couldn't find him though, because they had to protect Harry and there wasn't enough time before their death to do much.**

…**...**

Sirius normally enjoyed Order meetings. They were a chance to socialize with the friends he hadn't seen much. They were a chance to feel like he was actually doing something to help fight Voldemort. But nothing about the past week had been normal, and he doubted it would become so anytime soon.

After he had discovered the letter, he had shown it to Remus and told Dumbledore immediately. Remus had reacted much the same way as he did- complete shock and a hope that they both daringly felt. Dumbledore had barely blinked at the news that first of all, Lily and James had a son before Harry who had died, and second of all, that their son actually might be alive. Instead, after receiving the condensed version of Sam's life/death/probable life, the headmaster had asked them to hold off action until the next Order meeting, when they would tell everyone this information. Sirius wasn't exactly sure why the _entire _group had to know, but if it meant that Sam would be found, he wasn't going to complain.

Still, it didn't mean Sirius had to like the entire Order of the Phoenix, including his old professors, enemies, and relatives, staring at him like vultures while Dumbledore explained the story. On the bright side, Snape's face was slowly turning a strange purple color, which was more entertaining than Sirius could have hoped for. He had told Remus about the same before the meeting, whispering to him, "Can you imagine the git's face when he finds out Prongs knocked Lily up way before he had thought?" _The git_ was universally understood to be Snape just like the _fat lug _was Vernon Dursley. Remus, the serious almost straight-laced friend, had to cover his loud laugh up as a cough. It was odd, after reading the letter, he and Moony had come to some unspoken agreement of peace. Believe it or not, but their newfound knowledge brought them together. It was a good feeling, to know that one of his problems, no matter how small, was solved.

After Dumbledore had finished the explanation, the room burst into chatter. Comments and questions flew about the room, mostly directed at him, Dumbledore, and Remus. Dung had fallen off his chair at the sudden onslaught of noise. Dedalus Diggle was exclaiming something, his voice apparently getting squeakier as he got louder. The Hogwarts Gang, consisting of the Order members who staffed the school and dubbed by the Marauders during the first war, discussed the information together. "Wait. Why is everyone being told this? How is this important?" Tonks asked, yelling to be heard over the din.

Sirius had just given up on trying to respond when Kingsley, in an extremely tactful way, stood up and basically told everyone to shut up and listen to Dumbledore. Gradually, the noise faded and the attention of the group once again turned to the headmaster.

He folded his hands at the head of the table, and looking rather serious for once, said, "To answer your loud question Tonks," here the mentioned woman smirked, looking completely comfortable with being called out, "there is a reason I've waited until we had an almost full Order meeting to tell all of you this. There is a certain significance as to just who Sam is."

Some of the Order seemed to follow what Dumbledore was saying, their eyes widening. Others, not so much. Sirius figured that he fell somewhere in-between; the only reason he saw that this was so important was that Harry would have an actually alive relative.

One fact about the leader of the Order of the Phoenix that Sirius had to note, no matter how much they didn't get along at the moment, was that he certainly knew how to keep others' attention. The whole table was silent as they waited for him to speak again.

Mad-Eye spoke up, obviously feeling that the silence would get them nowhere. "You're saying that it can't be a coincidence that both of the Potter boys survived."

Sirius, who had grown quite adept at reading people, noticed a brief flicker of hesitation in Dumbledore's eyes before he spoke. "It does seem strange that two children of the same heritage, at different times, would survive Voldemort or his Death Eaters when grown fighters have not."

The professor knew something he wasn't sharing, but when didn't he? Sirius hadn't even thought about how if Sam was alive, both he and Harry would have done what was thought impossible. Admittedly, Harry's way was more impressive, but Sam had survived Death Eaters, most likely ruthless killers if they accompanied Voldemort in recruitments.

But that was no reason to have to tell everyone. Sirius knew that Harry normally hated all the attention on him for something that, while stopping Voldemort, had killed his parents and forever changed his life. And Sirius, already wanting to protect Harry, wasn't going to let the same happen to Sam. He spoke. "So that's why you told us to wait to act until the Order found out. You want to what? Drag him into the spotlight and into a role that no kid could ever want?"

Molly turned to look at Dumbledore at Sirius's comment, saying, "That better not be true. The poor dear would be just introduced to our world!" It was clear that her motherly instincts were flaring up again. In times like these, Sirius much appreciated them. Other murmurs of apprehension rose in the wake of her statement.

Dumbledore responded, calming the mounting tension. "Of course I wouldn't expect that. In fact, I don't intend for any of this information to leave this room. I hoped that the boy would be introduced to our, his world, and for Harry to meet someone with most likely, similar qualities of his. And there is the fact, no matter how callous it may sound, that Sam Potter, if alive, would be valuable to the Order, having survived Death Eaters as a newborn."

Sirius thought that it did make sense. And with more people informed, there would be a better chance of finding a way to see if Sam's alive. Sirius did trust Dumbledore, and he believed that the headmaster meant every word that he had just said. The room was again at ease, until a certain person added to what the headmaster had said.

The full Order of the Phoenix meetings were more often than not, filled with arguments over any possible plan. It was to be expected though, as many of the members only had one thing in common: they were all determined to defeat Voldemort.

So it wasn't a surprise that when Snape said," May I add that we are going to enter a war soon, and we need any _advantage_," there his lip curled in a sneer," that we have," it caused him to get angry.

If someone like Moody had commented like that, Sirius would have let it slide, probably not even given it a second thought. But this was Snivellus, and even though Sirius just _knew _that he said that for the sole purpose of a reaction, Snape was still going to get one. "You will not use either of my godsons as a weapon!" he snarled, pushing back his chair with a clatter.

"Calm down," Kingsley spoke, looking done with all of the Order's drama. "Both of you," he added, looking at the greasy-haired man whose smirk was quickly wiped off of his face.

Sirius felt the adrenaline coursing through him, ready for a fight. He sat back down though, recognizing that it wouldn't get them anywhere. He nodded, and pasting a faked smile on his face, said," Apologies. Just trying to look out for the boys." Hestia shot him a kind smile that showed she was appreciative of the fact.

"Now that we've got that under control, what are we going to do?" McGonagall asked, cutting to the chase as she transferred back to the matter at hand. She elaborated, saying, "How do we find out if Sam is alive?"

Remus finally contributed to the conversation, saying, "That is a good question. How _are _we going to do this? After all, we can't just stop at every New York City apartment and say, 'Hi, does a seventeen year old boy happen to live here? And if he does, can we look to see if he looks like his dead parents?"

As always, Sirius flinched at the reminder that Harry didn't have alive parents; that James and Lily were dead. But the question was a good one, how would they find him? Thinking for a moment, the obvious way came to him. "We do it the same way he was found originally." At a few blank looks, he added, "We have to use the same charm that Lily and James used, we just make sure it works first."

Dumbledore resumed his role as leader. "That is a great suggestion. Does anyone have any others before we vote on Sirius's suggestion?" When no one gave any input, he continued. "Okay, everyone for Sirius's way, please raise your hand."

Almost all of the members had their hands raised, filling Sirius with a sense of pride. He may not be allowed to leave the bloody house, but he still was helping. "The majority rules," Dumbledore announced. "Now, did the letter specify which charm was used?"

Remus answered. "It didn't."

"That does provide a slight blip in our otherwise smooth route." That was from Dumbledore, his metaphors uniquely him.

Bill luckily came up with a quick solution. "How about we just retrieve the spell from the book it was in?"

The group looked satisfied with that, except for the two Marauders there. "We can't." Sirius spoke with a foreboding sense in his gut. "The book Remus got was a one-of-a-kind." He still remembered how Lily, heavily pregnant, had cried when she got the book, telling Remus he shouldn't have gone to all the trouble. Then she had smacked Prongs when he teased her for going soft. With the recollection, as always, he felt his grim expression drop even more.

"Well, we actually could." Emmaline Vance said, looking hesitant. "Because if the Potters had used the spell the day before their deaths… it should still be in their house. We could easily send a few of the Order out to go get the book."

There was a moment of silence. Most everyone who was close to them could discuss Lily and James without still hurting, years after their death. But it felt like the worst violation for someone other than their kin to invade the monument left to honor their broken family. Sirius, although a true Gryffindor, wasn't sure he would have volunteered for the job even if he could, too afraid to face a place that had once been a source of happiness to him as it was now.

But Sirius had always thought Remus to be a better man that he, and that belief was showing again. His friend broke the silence, saying, "I'll go. I know the place, and probably where the book would be."

Tonks volunteered as well. "So will I."

"It's settled then," Dumbledore said. "Tonks and Remus will go find the spell. Now onto the next order of business, which is Severus's report."

Sirius once again tuned out the meeting. He had no desire to hear the report, filled with implications about _how he was risking everything, while some sat at home, too afraid to stick out their necks for the cause_. His mind turned to how if everything worked, Harry would have a brother, and maybe if his innocence was proved, they could all become something resembling a family. He didn't want to think about it, as unrealistic as the hope was, but he couldn't help himself.

{/***\\}

The next day, while the newly-moved in Weasley parents (Sirius doubted that the teens in the house would be up before noon) and he had breakfast, Moony and Tonks came in, smiling as they did so.

Sirius asked, perhaps a little anxiously, "Did you get it?"

Tonks plopped down on the nearest chair. "Yep," she replied, popping the _p_. "And no problems at all, unless you count a few nosy neighbors." Sirius wished that was the biggest of the problems they all faced.

"Which is exactly why we got up at an insane time. To not be seen," Remus commented wryly, as he went to pour himself some coffee. Before he could get far at the task, Molly shooed him away, telling Remus to just sit for a few minutes.

"Honestly," the woman huffed. "You're always so busy, you forget common sense like taking care of yourself." Remus nodded at her in thanks as she delivered him a cup.

Sirius never thought he'd be grateful for someone who would mother him living 24/7 in his house, but he found himself more and more appreciative every day. Not only for having people with him, but it felt a bit more like home. In actuality, all of the Weasleys helped with that.

Even with their presence, it still was hard, missing so many people. Especially with those that he can still see, but couldn't at the time. More specifically, Harry. The boy had been through so much, and Sirius had a feeling that it wasn't going to stop yet. Every time he sent a letter to Harry, he felt guilty at not telling him everything. And it was only a week into the summer. He was already going crazy in his house, Sirius could only imagine how Harry was feeling, stuck at Privet Drive after such a scarring event from last month. At least he knew what was going on. Harry didn't even get that.

Sirius was interrupted from his, for lack of a better word, brooding by Tonks falling from her chair. He turned to see Remus helping her up, laughing as he did so. It seemed that she helped take away Remus's worry every time she was near. Sirius was happy about that, happy that there was someone who could do that for his friend.

"Seeing as someone is playing on the floor," Sirius announced, shooting a smile at his cousin, "I'd say we're done with breakfast. How about we test that charm now?"

"Might as well," Arthur said, speaking up for the first time since breakfast had started. He had been reading the newspaper, occasionally giving a disgusted snort. "Where do you think is the best place to try this, Sirius?"

"You mean the least contaminated? That would probably be my room," he said, thinking out loud. "You see, Kreacher's refused to go in there."

"Then I say we go there," Arthur replied. Following him, Remus, Tonks, Molly, and Arthur silently made their way up the stairs, careful not to wake his mother. The last thing they needed was a 6 am wake up call. There was a risky moment where Tonks almost ran into the umbrella stand, but Remus pulled her away just in time.

The almost lighthearted mood disappeared once they had entered his room and the door was shut. Sirius went to turn on the lights while the rest started to look in the book for the charm. He felt nerves tingling in anticipation. They were finally doing something to find Sam.

Rejoining the people who were now all counted as some of his closest friends, Sirius sat down on his bed and leaned over, trying to read the scribblings in the dim lighting. After a few minutes, Remus, the only one still reading, told everyone that he found the spell.

"That's great," Sirius said, ready to get started. "How do we cast this?"

Looking at the page for reference, Remus started to explain. "From what I've seen, this is fairly simple. The real work is enchanting the globe that is required for the searched for to be found. The charm will take a globe, and first of all, make it able to show exact residences, for example this house. Then, it will make the globe receptive to the inputted information, which is normally blood, and able to search for that specific information put into it."

Everything seemed to be in reach. That is, everything except for one glaring complication that was beginning to form. "It needs blood," Tonks stated, showing almost as much impatience as him. "I'm guessing that to find a person, this "inputted information" is kind of like their DNA-," at confused looks, she quickly explained. "I took the updated Muggle Studies course. DNA is like the information that makes up you. Your genetics. Anyway, so to find a person you'd need either their own blood, or their parents."

"Which means," Remus continued. "That means that we can test the charm to be sure it works, but to find Sam…" he trailed off, the obvious left unsaid. The room seemed to grow darker like their moods.

Sirius felt so frustrated. Why did it have to be so hard? Everything had to be difficult, and he was ready to just give up. He was tired of it all. How the evil always got to be on offense, how no one would ever believe the truth, too wrapped up in their own fears, how terrible, terrible things happened to good people.

"We could always use… you know, _their _blood," Remus started out. "But we aren't going to, it just feels too much like _dark _magic." He expanded his statement at Sirius's look of vehement protest.

They all thought for a while longer, trying to come up with some sort of solution. Not a single person was going to bring up the elephant in the room, the only answer being one much too reminiscent of Voldemort's return. It felt unspeakable, something so inherently wrong to use Harry's parents' blood, if they still had any in their bodies.

Stumped, Sirius could tell they were all starting to seriously consider using Lily and James's blood. But out of the blue, Molly said, "Harry."

"Come again?" Arthur asked, voicing the obvious question.

"Harry," she repeated. "He has both James and Lily's blood in him, exactly what we need to use this spell."

Sirius was impressed with her thinking. She had come up with a resolution that was less daunting than the first. "I must ask you, Molly, why you were the one to say this. No offense, but you strike everyone as someone who would be against using his blood." _Because of the third task_ was the unspoken addition to the sentence. They weren't afraid to speak about his return, but admittedly, would avoid it when possible.

Thankfully, she took no offense. "I just don't want to see another torn apart family," she said, tears in her eyes. Molly didn't need to say she was thinking of Percy, it was clear. Arthur moved to hug her.

"It'll be okay," he said, rubbing her back. Sirius felt awkward standing there, seeing such an intimate moment between parents.

Tonks clapped her hands together abruptly. "Your solution sounds like it will work." She looked quickly at the agreeing nods of consent from around the bed. "So we just wait until Harry comes and then we find his brother."

What she said was true. Who knew how long it would take before Harry was brought to his house, but it was much better than nothing. "Now all we have to do is test the charm," he said.

Remus nodded, becoming professional. Sirius admitted to wondering how his friend had become a teacher. He had never appeared to be much inclined toward the profession. But now, seeing him completely serious and intent, any doubts left his head.

"We'll test the charm," Arthur spoke, also looking solemn, and Sirius saw exactly why Dumbledore accepted the Weasleys into the Order.

Remus had already been chosen to perform the spell, the best candidate. Sirius had been the better Marauder at charms, but with thirteen years without practice, he grew rusty. "Okay," Remus said. He nonverbally first summoned a large globe and a needle. "I just have to first enchant the globe, and then you can prick your finger with this needle, and drop the blood onto the globe. If it works, it will show the precise location of all your children."

Turning to the globe, Remus pointed at the middle of it with his wand, and said," _Priquafere_." While he said this, he flicked his wand to the side and then in a half-circle arching upwards. The globe shimmered for a minute, and then settled back to its normal appearance. Sirius felt excitement rush through him as he hovered around, out of place, with no particular job to do. Tonks looked the same as he felt.

Remus then beckoned Molly and Arthur over. They approached, looking slightly nervous, but also determined. Sirius watched interestedly as they pricked their fingers and let the blood fall onto the top of the globe, one at a time. This was the moment they would see if the charm worked. This was one of those moments, like when he had confronted Peter, where everything could change based on how one singular event happened.

And slowly, the nerves that had been eating away at Sirius were replaced by warm relief as the droplets of blood combined and roamed around the globe, leaving one red dot in a Romanian town first, marking where Charlie was.

The blood traversed then to their home country. It showed London, where two dots were left; one at a flat, causing Mrs. Weasley to choke on a sob, and one at Diagon Alley: Percy and Bill. Lastly, the droplets stopped at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, leaving the remaining four dots behind.

And Sirius broke into a now rare genuine smile. The spell worked. Sam was alive.

**Wow! That turned out a lot longer than expected! I hope it makes up for the long waiting time. I have a couple notes about this chapter: **

**I have NO IDEA what an Order meeting would be like, so I just kind of guessed, but I hope it seems accurate enough. :) **

**I really like Sirius's character, but I find it hard to write from his point of view sometimes. Especially from Book 5, his emotions were kind of all over the place. So anyway, I hoped I managed to characterize him well enough.**

**The charm I made up is not just nonsense letters jumbled together. I combined parts of the Latin word search and the Latin phrase family first.**

**I hope you guys liked it! As always, thanks for reading!**

**Next chapter: Harry arrives at Grimmauld Place.**


	4. Chapter 4

**If you've made it this far, congratulations! One of the main characters will actually have a POV in this chapter! I plan on transitioning with the next couple chapters with Sirius and Harry's POVs splitting, and then hopefully get into a mostly Percy/Harry narrated story.**

**I'd like to say that I'm so sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this chapter. I was slammed with work during the last month of school, and once I got time to write, experienced major writer's block. That said, thank you to everyone reading this story, and THANK YOU SO MUCH to every reviewer. **

HARRY

Harry hated nightmares. Either they forced him to relive the night at the graveyard, or they showed him a terrifying future where Voldemort ruled. Some nights he got lucky and experienced both, and those were often the times he woke himself up screaming.

This time it was one of those nights. Harry, thrashing around, flipped out of bed, hitting his head on the nightstand near it. He blinked, now dealing with both the back of his head and scar throbbing. Ron, his voice muffled, sleepily asked, "Harry, you alright?"

Harry groaned in response.Bugger it all, one night here and he already managed to wake Ron up.

It was definitely weird, and wonderful, that he was here. Out of nowhere, some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix showed up to bring Harry out of Privet Drive. Arriving at the headquarters, Harry had screamed at his friends, made up, then gotten all of the information Hermione and Ron had learned over a month in one sitting. If that was only the first day, Harry had a feeling he wouldn't be getting that peaceful summer and school year.

Rustling sheets and footsteps indicated that Ron was dragging himself out of bed, at… a glance at the window showed it was probably around five in the morning. Dragging himself out of bed for Harry. Regardless of any leftover bitter feelings from being stuck at the Dursleys for a month, Harry felt his heart warm at the gesture. No one had ever done anything like that for him before Ron.

Harry shifted upright, leaning against the back of his bed as Ron slid down next to him. "Thanks, but you can go back to sleep," Harry started to say, but Ron interrupted him.

"I'm up now, aren't I? Besides, we're mates. Even if I wanted to go back to sleep, I wouldn't when you're still up."

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks. We never did finish our discussion last night. Do you have any more ideas on this weapon?" The thought of a weapon terrible enough that even Voldemort couldn't have it sent chills down Harry's spine. If he, without the weapon, gained so much power, what could Voldemort possibly do _with _the mysterious weapon?

"I dunno," Ron dully replied. "I mean, talking earlier we realized it could be absolutely anything. And anywhere."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It's like you said earlier: What can be worse than death?"

The two boys fell into silence, again trying to even picture what the weapon could be, and more importantly, what the weapon could do.

"What if it isn't though?" Ron asked suddenly, sounding deep in thought. "What if it's… like something to help You- Know- Who get power faster than he did before?"

Harry hadn't even imagined that. When thinking of the weapon, he had been so busy trying to picture what it was like to wonder why Voldemort would need a weapon. "Good point. I think if we figure out why he would even need this thing, we could understand what it is."

"Hermione would be so proud of us, figuring this stuff out using our brains," Ron jokingly said, tapping the side of his head.

Harry laughed as he pulled two pillows down off the bed. "If we're not going back to bed, we might as well get comfortable," he said, passing one to Ron.

"Sadly, the floor will probably be more comfortable than my bed," Ron complained, glaring at it as if it had personally offended him. "Doesn't help that I'm already sore from being landed on by Fred and George. Can't wait until I get my apparition license. I'm going to have so much fun interrupting _their_ sleep."

The pair's discussion slowly drifted to the more mundane things every other boy their age would talk about, instead of their usual how to stop the world from being taken over, until George's loud voice alerted them to the beginnings of the day.

**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

By lunch, Harry was really wishing he had insisted on going back to sleep. Ron shared the same groggy look as him, almost falling asleep while cleaning. It took a doxy almost biting Ron's nose to get him to actually keep his eyes all the way open. Ron would have gotten bit too, if Hermione hadn't deftly sprayed it just in the nick of time. She then shot a look at Ron, muttering, "_Honestly_."

"I don't get it," Ron had told Harry after the doxy incident. "I know for a fact that Hermione and Ginny were awake at least as long as us, and they seem fine."

Harry had offered a helpless shrug. He was going into fifth year, yet girls were still a mystery to him.

Harry, now settled into one of the armchairs, picked up his sandwich, finally able to relax, even if it was just for lunch. "Harry, can you come over here for a minute?" Sirius called. Harry cast a longing look at the food before sighing and getting out of the chair.

"Hey, maybe he'll tell you more about the Order," Ginny offered, trying to get Harry to look at the positive side of not eating the sandwich.

"If he does, tell us all!" Fred shouted, earning a reproachful look from his mother.

Harry headed over to Sirius, near the tapestry they had just talked about. "What is it?" he asked, sensing that Sirius had something important to tell him, judging by the way he shifted from foot to foot. It was one of his habits, Harry had noticed, when he was anticipating something, almost like it was a way to get all of the nervous energy out before the event Sirius was preparing for.

Sirius cleared his throat. "We, that is the Order, discovered some information this last month that we believe you should know about. How about we go into this room," he jerked his thumb at a door Harry hadn't seen, it being partially hidden by the tapestry, "for some privacy?"

Harry glanced back at the group eating sandwiches. Mrs. Weasley offered an encouraging smile, which struck Harry as odd. Last night, she had been completely against giving the information about Voldemort to any of them, thinking them too young. Luckily, they still managed to get some, and excitement filled Harry at the thought of learning more.

"Sure," Harry agreed. Sirius jerked the Black family tree up with some effort, and shoved open the door.

"I think this used to be a study," Sirius told him, cheerfully kicking some of the debris littering the ground out of the way. "When I lived here, it was a glorified storage closet. Either way, since it has nothing of value, it's one of the least contaminated rooms in this godforsaken house."

The room, overall, was small, cramped, and dark. Basically, it looked like every other room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Shoving aside a box filled with old clothes, Harry perched on the edge of the desk. "What is this information you need to tell me?" Harry asked.

Sirius sighed. "You have a brother," he said bluntly. Harry was vaguely aware of his jaw dropping as his view spun.

"Wh -what?" he managed to get out, shock shutting him down. "How is that even possible?" Harry desperately tried not to get his hopes up, waiting for Sirius to say Harry misheard him or something of the sort.

"He's about two years older than you," Sirius started to explain, before Harry interrupted him, a burning question on his mind.

"Wait, how come no one ever told me about him?" he demanded angrily. "I obviously haven't seen him at Hogwarts, but even if he isn't a wizard, he still should know me and you! Where is he?"

Sirius dragged his hand down his face, hesitating. "No one told you about him because no one outside of your parents, me, Remus, and _the rat_," he spat that, "no one knew. And we all believed him to be dead."

Harry felt his stomach sink. Dead? Voldemort must have killed him the same night he killed his parents. "Why would you tell me this, Sirius? If he's dead…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head.

"No! We believed him to be dead, since when Voldemort went to try to recruit Lily and James, his Death Eaters took him. But a charm showed him to still be alive, nearly fifteen years ago," Sirius said in a rush.

Alive. His brother (it felt so odd to think) was alive. Harry had a brother. And it was at this realization that Harry gave into the combined efforts of not much sleep and shock. He passed out.

SIRIUS

"Shit!" Sirius gasped, catching his godson right before he fell off the desk. He was the worst godfather in the universe. Sirius was sure if Remus were here he could explain everything in a way that would not result in Harry losing consciousness.

Sirius, using one hand to prop Harry up on the desk, fished through his robe and pulled out his wand. "_Evernnate_." A bright light flashed from his wand, and soon, Harry's eyes began to flutter a few times before flying open.

"Did I really just pass out?" Harry asked, sounding almost frustrated with himself.

"You did," Sirius confirmed, letting go of Harry's shoulder. "But to be fair, I probably shouldn't have thrown that much information at you all at one time."

At least he gave Harry information, though. Sirius had promised himself that no matter what, he would tell Harry only the truth. Sirius more than understood the feeling of being trapped, starved for information, and he would not let Harry feel that way. Even if it meant that the truth would not be a happy thing.

"It's fine," Harry said distractedly. "What did you say about a charm?"

"Oh, the charm was one that could find people of kin. Here," Sirius fumbled through his robe pockets before first pulling out a ripped page from the charm book. "this will explain the charm. And I learned of this charm through a letter."

He hesitated for a moment, holding onto Lily's last letter. He knew it was incredibly selfish, but a small part of him wanted to keep the letter. However, Sirius was more than positive that Harry deserved it far more than he ever would.

Sirius handed the letter to Harry. "This is the letter. It was from your mother."

Harry studied it, tracing a trembling finger down the parchment. "Thank you so much, Sirius," he said, his face breaking out into the first real grin Sirius had seen since he arrived, before gently folding the letter and tucking it into his robes.

Watching Harry, Sirius realized that the joy in seeing Harry receive the letter completely made up for the pain of letting go of it. There it was. Something about Harry that made even the bleakest of situations better. With him around, Sirius would be content to live off of rats (which he did at one point). Even the old house seemed brighter with Harry in it. And it felt like every time Sirius tried to tell Harry just how much he meant to him, his words and feelings got tangled up, and out came some complaint.

"Anyway," Sirius cleared his throat, "as you can see from the paper, you have to have a means of finding someone to enchant." Quickly, he summoned the globe they had enchanted three weeks ago.

"We already enchanted the globe, so all that remains to be done is to put in the blood to find your brother. Now, Harry, the way to do that is to use your blood, since it has both of your parents' blood, just like your brother. You can take as long as you like to get used to the idea, I don't want to rush you or remind you in anyway of the Tournament," he said this part forcefully, wanting Harry to know that this was his choice, he was in control.

Harry looked back at him, and all Sirius could find in his gaze was determination, a look Sirius had seen on Lily's face so many times it was like looking into the past. "Let's do this, I'm going to find my brother," Harry said.

"I knew you could do it," he said proudly, though a little taken aback that Harry was so ready. "All you have to do is prick your finger on the globe, and it should show you where he is."

Harry walked over to the globe floating in midair, stretching out his hand. "Wait," Harry said. "If it will show anyone with my blood, wouldn't it show Voldemort's location? How will we be able to tell the difference between spots?"

Sirius frowned, considering that fact which hadn't even come to his mind while planning to find Sam. "Let's just wait and see exactly where the spots are. I'm sure we'll be able to tell the difference by where they are. Like, if a spot was in a busy city, in an apartment, obviously Voldemort wouldn't be there," Sirius said, figuring it out as he spoke.

Harry nodded before pricking his finger. This time, when it was the real thing, time seemed to move so slowly. A red spot appeared in a secluded area just outside of Britain. More than likely it was where Voldemort was currently operating.

Then, traveling around globe, the rest of the blood settled in one point, in America. "New York," Harry breathed, breaking the silent spell that had come across them. "Just like in Mum's letter."

Sirius, quickly zoomed in on it, trying to find an exact address. "Yeah, New York," Sirius said, before the news really set in. He let out of a bark of laughter and whooped. "We found him!"

Harry shared his excitement, although Sirius was sure Harry was curious as to why he was still laughing and smiling. He didn't know that this search had been going on for over a month, that the wait nearly drove both him and Remus up the wall.

Remus. Sirius had to tell him the great news as soon as he returned from his mission. Everything in Sirius wanted to leap up and head to New York City that instant, to find Sam and bring him home. But he knew he would have to wait, wait to make a plan, wait until Moony got back. More bloody waiting.

"I can't believe this," Harry excitedly said, heading towards the door. "Mind if I go show Ron and Hermione?"

"Not at all!" he said cheerfully. And he didn't. Harry would tell all of the teens seating sandwiches, and Sirius would wait. However, the second Remus returned, they would finally find Sam. Harry would go to the hearing, and be cleared. Everything would work out. It had to.

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**I know that in Order of the Phoenix, both Sirius and Harry are a lot moodier than in the other books, but I figure that since Sirius had finding "Sam" on his mind, he had more hope, which would lead him to be happier in this fic, and Harry just found out he had a brother, so obviously he would be excited.**

**This chapter aligns with the chapter "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" from Order of the Phoenix. Please tell me if I got something wrong from the books, because even though I tried to make sure everything was accurate, I could easily have missed something. Thanks so much for reading!**

**Next chapter: (Finally) Finding Sam**


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